


Happy Death Day To You

by RatKingDad



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Accidental Self-Harm, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Beheading, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatKingDad/pseuds/RatKingDad
Summary: Reincarnation does not mean that the memory of death was erased from the queens’ minds. On days like this, they needed the support of their friends more than ever.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 169





	1. Aragon

It was January 7th, 2017, when the queens had their first run-in with what they came to refer to as “death days”. On the anniversary of her death, a queen could be found generally laying in bed, in pain or feverish, clutching and clawing at her neck or chest or stomach. However, on this first encounter, they had no clue how to deal with it. They had only been brought back in November and they could barely navigate the world, let alone their feelings. Especially given that half of them still hated each other and the other half was scared out of their wits, though these feelings were not mutually exclusive.

The queens knew the day was coming, all of their deaths were marked on the calendar in the kitchen of their home, marked by color-coded “x”s the same way birthdays were marked with little party hats and marriage dates were marked with rings. A solemness filled the home as the dreaded golden x drew closer. It was, of course, the worst for Aragon, who spent most of the week trapped in memories of those cold and lonely last days. Maria was staying over to look after her, a bleak reminder of the fact that she had been the only familiar face Aragon had in her last days. 

When the day came, silence reigned, overthrowing the chaos that generally was the queens’ home in the morning. Even Anne seemed to be walking on eggshells as she made her tea. Aragon did not come down for breakfast, something that in itself was not uncommon as she often prayed in her room for a couple of hours after waking before she came down to eat, a remnant of her nigh obsessive praying in the final years of her life. However, concern began to set in when she wasn’t down by noon. 

It was decided that Katherine, having the least conflict with Aragon, should go check on her. The nineteen-year-old was absolutely terrified of the first queen, but her big heart wouldn’t allow her to let anyone suffer. She brought with her some soup for Aragon, wanting to make sure that the queen ate at least something. She knocked timidly on the door to Aragon’s room, waiting for a response, but getting none from the queen except a slight pained groan. Instead, Maria called to her,

“Who is it?”

Kat’s mind fried for a second before she was able to respond with a strained, “It’s Katherine, uh, Howard”.

A soft sigh and then, “Come in, but be quiet”

Quiet was something Katherine knew how to do. She gently creaked the door open, careful not to let too much of the hall light in when she saw that the room itself was dark, figuring that was intentional. Slipping in, Katherine took in the form of Aragon curled up on her bed, clutching Maria’s hand in a deathly vice with her other hand resting over her chest. 

“Is she okay? Or, well shes clearly not okay, but like, its just phantom pain right? She’s not actually hurt, right?”, Katherine stumbled over her whispered words. Why had they trusted her to do this? Her own heart raced when Maria’s eyes turned on her, leaving Aragon’s face only for a second to stare into Katherine’s eyes, before turning back. 

“No, she’s just… remembering,” Maria let out a small sigh, “I have work I need to get done today, as much as I hate to leave her. Can I trust you to take care of her until I get back?”

“Of course! I mean, yeah, totally,” Katherine internally had absolutely no idea how she was going to do this, but she wanted to at least try. In truth, looking at Aragon filled her with dread for her fate the next month, when it would be the anniversary of her own death. 

Maria stood, placing a hand on Katherine’s shoulder. Wordlessly, she made Katherine turn to look at her and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Or well, Katherine thought it was meant to be reassuring but it made her wince and flinch away. She still wasn’t the biggest fan of contact and she hadn’t really spoken to Maria at all. The soup nearly dropped from her hands, but she caught herself in the last second. Maria removed her hand quickly, getting the hint, and nodded to Katherine instead as she walked out. 

With Maria gone, Katherine got a better look at Aragon’s trembling and groaning form. A cursory glance showed no signs of fever besides the shaking, so she figured it was from the pain more than anything else. Kat was a natural caretaker and it was this urge that pushed guided her actions here. With deep anxiety, she placed her self on the patch of the bed where Maria had been sitting before and placed the bowl on the bedside table. Gently, she raised her voice, “Catherine, I know you’re not feeling well, but I need you to eat something”.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say that Catherine of Aragon felt awful would be an understatement. Phantom shocks shook an uneven beat in her chest, so much like, like then, like, oh no. Oh please no. Please, merciful Lord. Why was Maria leaving? She was going to die now. She was going to die alone. The feeling was so familiar, but Catherine’s already lost mind couldn’t place it. Then, then, then, a weight on her (Her?) bed. The voice was so soft, she knew it, she trusted it, who was it? It was so young. A teenager. Mary?

“Catherine, I know you’re not feeling well, but I need you to eat something,” The voice said. It wasn’t Mary. Mary called her mother, not Catherine. Well, she didn’t know the voice, but she did want to make it happy. She couldn’t find it in her to speak, it hurt too much, but she tried to shift a bit towards the figure to show her agreement. She was a bit hungry she supposed. And the doctor said that she needed to eat to keep her strength up. When had he said that? It felt like so long ago, so so long ago. The figure seemed to understand her positive response and her pained body was gently moved into a sitting position. She finally got a blurry look at the voice and saw a dark-haired older teen, maybe a young adult, reaching for a wonderful smelling bowl next to her bed. What dark-haired older teen would be comforting her in her bed? A name pricked at the back of her tongue, but she couldn’t place it.

The soup was wonderful tasting and it brought Catherine back into reality just a bit. Unconsciously, she let out a noise of satisfaction, maintaining only enough of her normal grace to seem sheepish. The teenager on the bed seemed to smile and relax at the noise, letting out a small giggle. Warmth spread in Catherine’s chest that she could not place and for just a moment the pain let up. Whoever this girl was, Aragon knew that her smile was a rare thing and it brought her joy to see it. 

“I’m glad you like it, I made it myself. Jane and Anne tried to help but Jane’s skills stop at cakes and I don’t trust Anne within fifty yards of a kitchen”, The voice said with a giggle. Catherin finished the bowl fairly quickly, with her thoughts racing at the statement. Jane. Anne. Well, she knew Anne. Anne Boleyn was a lovely woman. She wanted to hate her, but she had been married to Henry long enough to know that he got what he wanted. Jane was a name that was vaguely familiar to her, but not really. In a moment of clarity, she found the name she had been looking for. Katherine or, well, Kat. 

“Kat”, her lips moved without Catherine’s consent. Her voice was rasped and pained, seemingly startling the girl. “It hurts.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katherine’s heart broke to hear those words. Her eyes welled up a bit with tears and suddenly, some primal instinct overcame her and all her reservations about physical contact. She found herself using one hand to maneuver Catherine’s head onto her lap, the other going to stroke Aragon’s hair. She leaned down and mumbled, “I know, I know it hurts, but it’ll be okay”. 

Her own voiced cracked in empathy while she spoke and the only indication that Aragon heard her was that she curled further into Kat. Katherine didn’t know where to go from here. It turns out, she didn’t need to know as within a few minutes Catherine was out cold in her lap, seemingly drained. It had been about an hour and a half since Kat had entered the room and she knew the other queens must be wondering where she was.

As if on cue with her thoughts, the door creaked open a bit, revealing Cleves. Of course, Cleves would be the one to come check on her. Anna didn’t say anything, she didn’t need too. That was one of Katherine’s favorite things about her. She simply crept into the room to observe the position that the two C(K)atherines were in. A smile spread across her face and she approached Kat, holding out her arms and tilting her head in a silent question. Katherine nodded, still not stopping her light strokes in Catherine’s hair. Heaven forbid she unsettle the woman and cause her even more agony. Cleves simply wrapped her arms around Kat’s shoulders and placed a light kiss on her forehead before leaving the room. 

Katherine stayed in that position for hours while Catherine slept, eventually falling into her own nap when the air felt calm enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aragon’s dreams began unsettled, began with the familiar images of loneliness and pain. Then, somehow, she knew she wasn’t alone. She felt protected. It had been so long since someone had taken care of her. The dream quickly turned sweet and warm despite the circumstances she found herself in. 

When she woke up, the pain in her chest was still there, but she found herself in the present rather than in that hazy back there state. Her head was in a lap, but she didn’t remember how she got there. Looking up, she found the sleeping face of Kat, who had somehow managed to fall asleep in a cross-legged sitting position. A warm hand was in her hair, long fingers perfect for playing piano entangled in her curls. A soft sigh left her, a semi-desperate attempt to alleviate some of the pressure squeezing her heart. The was enough to wake Kat, a notably light sleeper. Catherine would feel embarrassed about how vulnerable this position was if not for the fact that she was too immobilized to even and try and hide how much she needed comfort.

“How did you sleep?”, Kat’s sweet and sleep roughened voice asked. Catherine didn’t think she could handle speaking right now, but she made a small noise that she hoped was positive enough to indicate that she had slept well. Groaning, she lifted herself into a sitting position to look Kat in the eye. “How’s your heart?”, this question came out much softer than the other. 

Catherine simply shook her head, a hand reaching up and unconsciously scratching at the place right above her clenched fist of a heart. A panic slipped back into her mind until she found that the hand had been taken from her chest and was being held between both of Kat’s. The deep look of understanding and concern in the teen’s eyes cut to the very core of her being. The touch brought her back to the present. She mustered up whatever she had left in her and let out a, quite pathetic in her opinion, squeak of “Hold me?”

The second it came out of her mouth, Aragon felt so weak. She was supposed to be the graceful one, the regal one. Aragon the Paragon. How was she supposed to be respected when she was practically begging this teenager to hold her? She wasn’t a child. 

But, Katherine didn’t look like she thought any less of her now. She just smiled and pulled the older woman on top of her, though quickly the position shifted to them both on their sides. It was almost as comforting for Catherine to have her arms around Kat as it was to have Kat’s arms around her. It was a reminder that she was here and loved and not alone. 

The sun had gone down by now, though Catherine couldn’t remember most of the day, having been lost in a haze of the still-present pain. Katherine noticed too and sent her a look, “I need to go downstairs and start dinner. You know everyone else is a disaster in the kitchen. Are you okay if I get up and have someone else come in?” 

No, this was not okay with Catherine, it was bad enough to have Kat see her like this, let alone someone else and the idea of being left without company for even a second was absolutely terrifying. Kat seemed to notice this displeasure and softly offered an alternative,

“Would you like to come down with me and watch me make dinner?”

In a move that made Aragon feel so much younger than she was, she nodded eagerly at the proposal. The teen simply giggled a bit, making Aragon blush. Katherine guided them both up, letting Aragon stay huddled into her until she gently deposited her at the kitchen table. It was calming to watch how Katherine methodically made dinner, in that careful way she seemed to do several things in. When the other queens came down at the call of dinner being ready, the tension that had filled the house all day seemed to alleviate slightly when they saw Aragon, out of bed and looking unwell but better than expected. They each offered small words of comfort, gradually warming her up, casual conversations about useless subjects distracting her from the pain. 

When Aragon went to bed that night, the pain in her chest seemed alleviated and her mind was placated at the knowledge that she was not alone


	2. Howard

A little over a month after Aragon’s first encounter with a death day, there came another. The few days before, Katherine hadn’t slept in her own room. She wasn’t sure if the queens noticed, but despite the chilly weather, Katherine has been sleeping out on the porch. The idea of waking up from a nightmare and finding herself between four walls, unable to see the sky, was crushing. Then, the day came, February 13th. Unlike Aragon, whose death day filled the home with a sense of solemness, Katherine’s seemed to set everyone on edge. It was like her more violent death unscored their shared space with horror music.

This was not helped along by the fact that the day started with screams. Katherine had slept outside again, where the harsh breathing and sobbing from nightmares could normally not be heard in the home. Of course, today would be the day that she woke up screaming. Her dream had been the usual one. An ax to her neck, cruel eyes in the crowd, cheers at her death, hands grabbing at her severed head. But when she woke up, the pain was still there. Her neck burned and she cried out.

Already, she was lost to her panic and the reality of where she was had completely faded away. The sun in the sky was not a comfort like it had been the past few days, after all, she was to be executed in the morning, the sun rising. If the sun was up it meant it was already time. Why did her neck hurt already? Maybe she was already dead. Her hand came up to her throat to check if it was still attached and found a thick band of scar tissue. No that wasn’t right. She should be dead. It itched and burned and so she rose her hand up to scratch at the thick scar tissue. And she scratched and scratched until warm blood dripped through her fingertips. A hand grabbed hers and then she was gone fully into the blackness, struggling against it. She was already dead. Where would they be taking her? Her other hand came up to fight and made contact with a body, though not hard enough to do any damage. Quickly both arms were restrained and she was being led somewhere. The scaffold? No the place she was in now was warmer. And there was something warm (a blanket?) around her shoulders, wrapped tightly enough to stop her hands from going back up to her neck. The blackness took her again and she stopped fighting. She just curled up and let her senses fade into nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anna felt horribly guilty at the way she had had to manhandle Kat, but it was the only way to get her to stop scratching. All of the queens and woken up at the sound of screaming, jarring but not unexpected. They rushed downstairs to follow the noise. The source was found to be Kat, curled up on the porch with a thick blanket, her hand ripping into the scar on her neck. Though she knew Kat wouldn’t want her to, Anna acted on instinct and ripped her hand away from her throat. Kat struggled against her, but Anna was much stronger and had no trouble wrapping her arms around the teenager and hauling her up and inside. Anne, though they all knew she loved her cousin, had to run to be sick at the sight of the now opened scar, her hand going to her own throat. Aragon had quickly followed her in to provide some measure of comfort, leaving Jane, Parr, and Anna with a still trembling Katherine.

As soon as she was sure the teen was tucked into her blanket enough to keep her from hurting herself, Anna’s hands were back at her own side. Normally, Anna was one of the few people that Katherine had no problem with contact wise, but Anna has a feeling that Kat didn’t know who she was right now. She felt so much pain and guilt looking at the shivering form in front of her. If only she had stayed with Henry, then Kat wouldn’t have been killed at all. Those thoughts got her nowhere though, and right now her Kat needed Anna’s mind clear and present rather than dwelling in the past.

Parr spoke first, taking charge as she tended to do, “We’ve got to ground her somehow. I think she’s back there, not here”. Her voice trembled, unsettling Anna a bit. If Parr wasn’t sure what to do, how was she supposed to? But, then a vague memory popped up from back when Katherine was her lady for those few months. Music, singing specifically, seemed to always calm Kat down. Anna herself didn’t feel like her voice was soft enough for this, but she turned her head to stare at Jane.

“Can you sing to her?” She inquired. Anna and Jane hadn’t gotten close, but she knew that Katherine seemed to be comforted by Jane generally and the woman had a very soothing voice. Jane seemed surprised by the suggestion but didn’t question it. Not touching the girl, Jane moved close to her and began to sing gently. It was a song that Anna didn’t know, but Parr evidently did as her voice joined Jane’s. Parr moved to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the teen and Anna filled in the space on the opposite side of her to Jane. Slowly but surely, Katherine’s coiled and pained form relaxed and she moved into Anna’s lap as Parr and Jane continued to sing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aragon held Anne’s hair back as she vomited. She knew that seeing Kat’s neck had affected the woman as she occasionally reached a hand to touch her own scar. Catherine couldn’t help but notice at the moment how Anne’s scar was thinner and straighter than Kat’s, but the edges seemed to fray slightly like dye seeping into water, while Kat’s was a simple thick line that wrapped slightly diagonally around her throat. It was the mark of a swordsman rather than an ax. She carefully avoided touching it as she reached for a hairband to tie Anne’s hair back. Neither of them showed it in the best way, but she and Anne cared deeply for each other. After a couple minutes, Anne stopped being sick but looked to still be shaken. Aragon placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.

“I know you want to help your cousin, but I think you need to sit this one out”, Aragon advised in a tone she hoped was both authoritative and comforting. She breathed a sigh of relief as Anne nodded her head. This was not the time to pick fights. Catherine helped Anne up and watched as she stalked off to her room. Once she was out of sight, Catherine began pulling out antiseptic, gauze, and some bandages from the queens’ slightly overkill (thank you Jane) first aid cabinet. As quietly as possible she made her way downstairs, placing herself next to Cathy on the ground in front of Kat. Kat stirred slightly from Anna’s lap at the new addition, still clearly unaware of her surroundings if the thin glaze to her eyes was any indication.

Aragon sent a glance Anna’s way, asking silent permission to tend to the wound that was still sluggishly bleeding onto Kat’s shirt. Anna nodded her approval and Catherine sat up on her knees to reach the teenager better. Jane and Parr had begun singing a different song, an old English lullaby that Catherine recognized from some of Mary’s nursemaids, but did not know herself. Staying directly in front of the girl and showing her everything she was doing, Aragon began using the gauze to swipe antiseptic onto Kat’s neck. Katherine hissed slightly at the contact but did not fight it. It almost hurt worse to see the girl rigid and fearful, unable to even flinch. When Aragon went to wrap the bandages on however, Kat seemed to panic.

“Don’t. Please. Please, I can’t” Her breathing picked up. Jane’s hands began to run up and down her arms, still singing, and Cleves wrapped an arm around her, holding the teen close to her body. Aragon again looked at Anna and was greeted with another nod, this one slightly more hesitant than the last. Sighing, she began to wrap Katherine’s throat despite the girl’s weak protests. It wouldn’t help anyone if it got infected.

“I know, I know, Kat. But it’s got to be done or it’ll hurt worse later”

Katherine simply whimpered and tensed, though once Aragon removed her hands she collapsed back into Anna. They all stayed like that for a while, Jane and Parr singing sweetly, Anna clutching the girl, and Aragon watching in a poised position, ready to act at any moment. Eventually, the haze cleared from Katherine’s eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was… warm in the darkness. That wasn’t right. The tower was cold. And there was someone she was laying on. She loved them, whoever they were. There were hands on her neck but they were gentle and they only stung a little and it felt better than before when they let go. Oh, and there was singing. Gentle lovely lullabies. Who was singing to her? Her mother? She really was dead then. She only had the vaguest memories of her mum but they were all warm. But, there were two voices singing. Why was she warm? She should be freezing. She must not be in the tower. Where was she then?

The blackness parted just a little. She could see Parr and Aragon in front of her, and she knew that it was Parr and Aragon. And then the blackness faded away entirely and she could hear Jane and Parr together and feel that the lap she was in was Anna’s. Anna, her truest friend. She was safe here and that’s all that mattered. Katherine shifted slightly, trying to get closer to Anna, desperate for the feeling of another person. She needed to know she wasn’t alone. Anna, noticing her shifting, pulled her in.

A hand came up into her hair and she jumped a little. But the hand was kind and soft and simply starting to run it’s way through her dark locks, untangling some knots that had formed in her thrashing. The singing had stopped when she had shifted. Jane’s voice gently called,

“Is there anything you need us to do for you right now, darling?”

There was no expectation in her tone. Jane didn’t want any specific answer from Katherine, but still, her mind raced to find one. What if she didn’t give one and Jane got mad? What if Jane yelled at her? Henry had yelled a lot when she didn’t give the right answer. His temper was very short. It was her fault though. She knew he was in a lot of pain from his ulcers but she still irritated him with her fancies. Her fault. She deserved it. Jane seemed to sense her discomfort at being asked a question and her face fell. The third queen’s brow furrowed for a second before she lightened up again.

“I’m going to get you some tea,” Jane said resolutely. Kat whimpered at the loss of Jane’s hand in her hair, but tea did sound nice. She wanted to keep being warm. She didn’t ever want to be cold again. Anna’s arms tightened more around her. It made up for Jane’s absence. Parr also came up to join them on the couch. Her posture was stiff and unsure, so Kat weakly brought up her shaking arm to pull Parr into her. Aragon seemingly got the hint as she moved to rest against Anna’s legs and placed a hand into Kat’s hair. Whereas before, Kat couldn’t stand the thought of being touched, now that she knew she was with safe people, she couldn’t get enough contact. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anne knew it probably wasn’t great for her, but she had to be there for her cousin. It hurt so much more to not be able to protect Katherine than any sword could. She hadn’t known Kat in their past life, but she was her only remaining family expect for Jane, and heaven knows her and Jane didn’t exactly get along. The walls of her room felt suffocating and restricting. She needed to see Kat. 

In a haze, Anne made her way into the living room, barely noticing Jane in the kitchen. On the couch she saw Kat huddled up with the other queens, barring Jane. The wound on her neck was covered up by bandages and her shirt was hidden beneath blankets, both things Anne was grateful for. Despite herself, a wide grin spread on her face at the adorable sight. 

“Having a cuddle party without me, eh?” Anne’s voice was shaky but tinted with mocking. If she couldn’t stop Kat’s pain, she may as well make her laugh.

Kat’s head perked up at the noise, though not enough to move Aragon’s hand from her head. Her eyes widened and a very small smile perked up at the corners of her mouth. “Just get in here, will you”.

Kat’s voice was tired but happy. Anne quickly made her way over, trying not to seem too desperate. She laid her own body across Parr, effectively entangling herself, Parr, Anna, and Kat into a blob of cuddles. Aragon pouted a bit from the floor and Anne chuckled at seeing such a childlike expression on the oldest queen’s face. “Aw, how about we move this to the floor so Catalina can get in on it?”. Her voice shook again, but from laughter rather than unsureness. 

Aragon scowled at the use of her Spanish name, making Anne laugh harder. It was always so fun to get the woman riled up. Kat let out a sharp exhale, something that was about as close to a laugh as Anne figured she could get at the moment. Somehow, the four of them maneuvered on to the ground and Aragon was pulled in. A cooing noise broke from the doorway. Anne looked up to see Jane, a bright pink mug of tea in hand, smiling brightly and wide-eyed at the sight before her. Anne beckoned her closer, Jane eagerly joining them after passing the mug to Kat who sat up to drink it. 

“This is less of a cuddle party and more of a cuddle puddle init?” Jane joked. They all laughed at that, even Kat who ended up swallowing a bit of tea wrong as a result. Her sputtering only created more laughter, Anna’s hand began patting her back. Anne had never felt more at home than in this mass of queens all huddled on the carpet together. Tears pricked at her eyes at that thought. Parr must have seen her shining eyes, as she brought Anne into her more. They all fell asleep like that, exhausted from the early morning wake up and high emotions. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kat was the first to wake up, her sleep mercifully dreamless. It was just warm darkness. She was stiff as she woke but so comfortable. Her whole body stretched as she yawned. A soft gasp came from next to her.

“Kitty” Jane’s tone was soft and childlike, clearly still half asleep. Katherine was confused for a second, tilting her head at Jane. “You stretched with your whole body, you know, like a cat and your name is Katherine. So you know, Kitty”

Jane’s grin showed how proud she was of the pun. Jane loved her mum jokes. Kat groaned. Lord, she hoped that the nickname didn’t pick up. That hope was dashed when Anne shifted, rising off of Parr. Her cousin’s voice was lightly mocking and thick with sleep, “Kitty, I like that. That’s what I’m calling you from now on. It’s easier to not have three Catherine’s in the home anyways”. 

“I was Kat anyways! And Parr is Cathy! We don’t need another nickname!” Katherine insisted, a whine in her tone. She knew she sounded like a child, but it was so embarrassing (Not that she would admit it actually made her heart sing to be referred to with such an affectionate name). Her indignance was half-hearted though, and Anne laughed. 

“Okay Kitty”

Kat huffed, “You’re lucky I love you”. Her face fell quickly as she realized what she had just said. Love was a dangerous word, especially for Katherine. She hadn’t even realized it was true until she said it. She loved the other queens. Her anxiety rose as it took a bit for Anne to respond. What if Anne and Jane didn’t love her too? Had she just ruined their friendship by being too clingy? What if Anne, her last bit of family, was put off now? But her fears were assuaged when Anne seemed to find her own words,

“I love you too”. With that statement, Katherine felt safe. She was home, she was warm, and she was loved. What else could she want? 

The rest of the day was spent generally in that same position, lightly chatting and joking, with only the occasional interruption for food or for one of the queens to go to the bathroom or stretch. It was so nice, for all of them, but Kat especially. Sure, she still felt awful, but she knew she was protected and that no one here expected anything of her. She could lay about and ask for cuddles and tea when she was feeling bad and no one would get frustrated. That was all she had wanted, all she had needed, for so long. 

When the sun went down, the queens came to the agreement that they should all sleep in their own beds. They didn’t want anyone to get too cramped up in the same position. Kat, however, had different plans. Once she was sure everyone was asleep, she crept out of her room and knocked gently on the door to the bedroom next to her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was just about to fall asleep when there was a timid knock at her door. “Come in”

It was Kat, shaking in her pajamas. Her heart broke at the sight of the teen’s unsure and hunched posture. Her eyes didn’t leave the floor as she whispered,

“Jane, can I stay in here with you tonight?”. Jane was surprised a bit, she and Kat weren’t the closest pair. She would have expected the girl to go to Anne or Anna. Kat seemed to take her hesitation as a rejection and quickly backpedaled. “Or I can just go. You don’t have to. It was stupid anyway. I’ll leave now”

“No, no it’s not stupid. Come here, Kitty” Jane lifted her blanket to allow her to crawl in next to her. “Why are you here darling girl?” 

She didn’t mean for the pet name to come out so… maternal, but it did. Kat snuggled into her.

“I didn’t want to sleep alone and you’re just so,” Kat struggled for a word, “warm”. Jane’s heart filled and she closed the blanket around them both, wrapping her arms around the younger queen’s frame. She pressed a gentle kiss to Kat’s forehead before tucking her self under Kat’s chin. 

“You’ll always be welcome to come and get me whenever you need okay? Wherever you are, whatever you need, I’ll come or you can come to me” Jane kept her voice soft. Kat nodded her affirmative. Jane felt a gap that had been in her heart start to smooth over, though she couldn’t quite identify what it was. They fell asleep that way, holding each other. In time, it would all be okay.


	3. Boleyn

The queens had been living together for six months now and had just recently begun writing music for a show about their lives. All of them had gotten much closer, both from the process of writing and having just lived together for half a year. The next death anniversary didn’t come until winter turned to spring. Two days before the equinox, Anne Boleyn had stayed up all night not knowing if she would be present in the morning. She had been desperately trying to hide her discomfort all week, amping up her antics in an effort to compensate for her low spirits. The queens had suggested Maggie come stay with them to comfort her in the way that Maria had done for Aragon, but Anne was insistent she would be just fine. Internally, she wasn’t so sure.

Kat had insisted that Anne sleep in her room that night, wanting to be there for her when she woke up. This was especially to prevent what had happened to Kitty on her death day, as she woke up scratching at her throat. None of them wanted to see Anne go through that too, so it was decided that as the lightest sleeper and most experienced with the trauma of beheading, Katherine should be the first line of defense. Anne had different plans. Once Kitty has fallen asleep, she crept back into her own bedroom. She didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep, as the pain in her throat and the buzzing in her ears increased steeply with each hour that passed.

She had been trying her best not to pace around her room in case it woke anyone up, but her hands were fidgeting and her legs bounced up and down on her bed. To keep herself occupied she had begun picking at her cuticles, a nasty habit she had picked up for situations where she couldn’t move around. Sitting still has never been Anne Boleyn’s forte. By the time the sun rose, her nails were bitten down to nothing and the skin around them was absolutely shredded and stinging. That pain helped to distract from the now throbbing line wrapping itself in the place where a blade had once deftly sliced her open. Her whole body seemed to vibrate the manic energy she was trying to contain. Once the clock struck nine, however, Anne could no longer find it in her to stay still. At least someone had to be awake by now right? She had been executed at nine o’clock she knew. Well, at least she was still in the present, still aware of her surroundings.

She used that thought to justify why she couldn’t possibly go to another queen for comfort. In her rush to get downstairs, she didn’t notice that Anna’s bedroom door was open, uncommon as it was for her to be up before midday. She stopped in the doorway of the kitchen for a second being as silent as she could and taking in the sight of the two queens in there. It was something not necessarily unexpected, but so tender that she didn’t want to break it. Katherine and Anna dancing to some song, with Anna singing along loudly and Kat laughing harder than Anne had ever heard her. It was so nice to see her… her family… so happy together. She let them go for a minute, not wanting to be a nuisance. When the song ended finally, she walked in as though she hadn’t just been creeping on them.

“I think we should go out for breakfast! Maybe grab Maggie on the way” Her voice seemed to startle both of them. Kat seemed unsure, her joy from just a moment ago now knotted concern. That wouldn’t do at all. “Come on Kitty cat, it’s only a bit away!”

Anna and Kat shared a look of worry between them. Anne felt so deeply alone in that moment. Lord, how she wished that she could be close to someone like that, to know what they were saying without words. She wished she was close, truly close to anyone. No, no she couldn’t have those thoughts. She had to stay happy.

“Annie, are you sure you want to go out today? And where were you when I woke up?” Katherine’s concerned tone cut through Anne’s thoughts. She forced a smile onto her face that she hoped didn’t look as pained as it felt. Her shoulders shrugged a motion that served to tense her up further, almost unable to get them back down.

“Oh don’t be a buzzkill, Kitty! And I was just doing some writing, that’s not a crime, is it? Don’t be silly” Anne prodded. It was a low blow, making Kat feel stupid or like she was ruining things when the young woman already doubted so much. It pained her to watch as her cousin cringed from those words like they burned her. Anna’s arm wrapped defensively around Kat and she fixed a glare on Anne. Good, if they hated her they wouldn’t worry about her. “Well anyway, I’m getting breakfast down the road and then I’m going to this fair Maggie told me about. Who’s coming with?”

Anna looked unsure for a second and Kitty looked downright scared. Then, after what felt like hours but was probably more like a few moments Anna answered her,

“Okay, I’m coming along to make sure you don’t do anything dumb. You don’t have to come along if you don’t want, babes,” this was said with a glance to Kat. The younger woman just nodded at Anne, indicating that she did indeed want to come along even if Anna was giving her an out. Anne jumped excitedly and clapped her hands, the motion causing a full force pain in her neck that made her eyes water. She quickly turned away and went upstairs calling behind her,

“Be ready in thirty!”

Once in her room, she let the smile fall off her face and tears began streaming down her cheeks, stinging when they ran over the inflamed scar on her throat. She allowed herself a couple of minutes to cry before she had to get her shit together. Anne carefully pulled on a choker, trying her hardest not to make contact with her skin. The normally soft material felt like a million pins sticking their way into her neck, pulling the tissue open in an effort to separate her head from her body once again. She dressed as quickly as she could, giving herself time to cover up the evidence of her crying.

Anne stared into her mirror, practicing the mischievous smile she was known for. This was not to say she was always faking it, she was the “most happy” after all, but she did know how to fake it when she had to. Right now, Anne had to. She shot a quick text to Maggie, warning her to get ready, before going back downstairs. The spring in her step was as false as the grin plastered on her face. She was surprised, and a little agitated, to find Parr ready and waiting with Anna and Kat near the front door. The three were whispering between themselves, Anna seemed frustrated, Kitty seemed worried (Oh, how she wished her cousin wouldn’t worry so much), and Parr was listening to them the way that she listened to documentaries. Like information was being absorbed or like Anne was some kind of fascinating creature and Anna and Katherine were experts. Anger welled up in Anne’s chest, fear alongside it. People talking about her behind her back had always been hard for her to deal with. Shaking off that irritation, she hopped down to them.

“Alright ladies, let’s go on an adventure!” She exclaimed, as obnoxiously as she could. Grabbing Parr’s hand, she pulled them all toward’s the ladies in waitings’ home. Anne knocked on the door in a stuttering rhythm and bounced on her heels while waiting. Her neck sent shocks of fire into her nerves in time with her fidgeting. The door opened, revealing a tired Joan who had clearly just woken up. With a large yawn and without looking at them, she wordlessly let them in, grumbling her tired protests. However, once her eyes landed on Kitty, she perked up a little. The two had been working together to write the music for their show, so it made sense that Joan would be fond of her. Joan grabbed Kat’s arm and dragged her to the room the ladies had dedicated to their instruments, with Anna trailing behind, reminding Anne a bit of a guard dog.

She and Parr stared at each other awkwardly for a second. The two hadn’t had the chance to really get close yet, not for lack of Anne’s trying. It was just a consequence of their different personalities. The tense silence ended when Maggie came downstairs. Her lady looked concerned, rubbing at her own neck. Shit, Anne had forgotten that the ladies could sometimes feel the pain of the queens, more strongly with their own queen than with the others. It was a consequence of whatever had brought them back. Now, she would really have to amp up her act.

“Annie, are you really sure you want to go out today? The fair will still be there tomorrow” Ugh, concern. Anne was so fucking sick of people’s concern today. She widened her grin, feeling the strain on her cheeks already.

“I’ll be just fine, I’m always down for fun!” Maggie didn’t look convinced and neither did Parr. Okay, she had to change her strategy. Neither her lady nor the extremely perceptive Parr would believe she was completely okay. “Please, I’ll feel better outside doing something than I would do stuck inside all-day”

The two softened at that, placated for now. Anne slung her arm around Maggie’s shoulders and called upstairs, “Hey Joan! Stop holding my friends hostage, we’ve got to go!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Parr watched Anne carefully throughout breakfast. She was joking around, teasing Kitty and Maggie as usual. But there was something sharp to the teasing. Anne prodded at them like she never would have normally. She had even made cracks at Kitty’s nervousness on the street when they walked past a group of rowdy men. Her concern grew when Anne barely ate anything, choosing instead to fidget with her choker. She mentally made notes about all of Anne’s behavior, cataloging it in the place where she kept the other queens’ coping mechanisms. It was right in between the place where she kept their triggers and the locked vault of her own trauma. She was privately satisfied with the filing cabinet of her mind, thinking it superior to the flow and chaos of others.

Walking to the fairgrounds, she noted how their group seemed to naturally split. Kat and Anna wandered off towards the petting zoo while Maggie and Anne drifted towards the food. Parr saw that she had a choice to make and decided to follow along with Anne. She saw a spark on Anne’s face when she noticed Cathy following, and something warm lit up her chest. Cathy wasn’t always the best at expressing love, but she tried to make it known that while her mind was focused on her work, her heart belonged to them.

She broke out of her analytical reverie when Anne turned around to look at her, stopping both herself and Maggie.

“Alright Mags, I dare you to go on that,” She pointed to the Ferris wheel, “and drop your phone off the top”. Parr immediately began to protest, but Maggie cut her off with a laugh. Evidently, this was a familiar game.

“And if I don’t?” She challenged.

“You buy me candy floss and have to deal with my sugar high later”. A mischevious smirk grew on Anne’s face. Parr groaned,

“Please just do it, I don’t need this one hyped-up” This extracted a laugh from Maggie.

“Fine, fine, but you two have to go on with me”. The three of them made their way to the front of the line rather quickly as it was still before noon. The ride up was rather peaceful, Anne was seemingly transfixed by the early morning sky, but once they got to the top, something was clearly off. Anne’s eyes had gone wide and glazed over and that’s when Cathy saw it. Her choker had fallen off, the clasp was broken in her hands. Maggie seemed to notice when Cathy did, her own eyes widening. Anne was pale and shaking and her scar was bright red and inflamed on her throat. She seemed to notice them staring and shook her head,

“Okay, we’re at the top, time to drop it¨

¨Annie, are you sure this is a good-¨

¨Don’t back out now Margaret, you don’t want to let me down do you?¨Anne’s words were joking, but her tone was sharper than Parr thought she intended. Cathy herself flinched.

“No,” Maggie stood her ground, “Once this is over you’re going home and I’m coming with you. It was a bad idea to go out and you know it, Anne”

Parr was truly shocked by the anger in the normally bubbly woman’s tone and even more shocked by the way Anne’s face twisted into a mask of anger for a second before settling back into an obviously fake smile. “Alright, you two can go home. But, I’m staying out. I’m an adult woman Maggie. And it’s not like you helped me before”

Cathy actually gasped at that. It was an unwritten rule that some past events were simply not brought up, and the fact that Maggie had been on the scaffold watching Anne’s beheading was one of then. Once, the ride had ended, Maggie stomped off with tears in her eyes, not speaking to Anne. The woman just stood there, her face still in that fake smiling mask.

“I’m going to get Kat and Anna, the three of us are going home. I won’t make you do anything but,” Cathy let out a deep sigh before continuing “please stay safe. It’s okay to not be okay”

Anne let out a sharp laugh, “I’ll be fine”. And with that, she walked off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a couple hours since the other queens and Maggie had gone home and Anne had no desire to be anywhere near anyone else at the moment. Her neck was still exposed and she felt so fucking vulnerable. She didn’t know where her legs were taking her until she was there. It was a park, one she had been spending quite a bit of time in lately. The queens frequented it on warmer days and it was where she wrote often, little songs and poems that she would never show anyone. She supposed it made sense that this is where she would go to clear her mind.

It was peaceful for a bit, her mind wandering elsewhere while the nerves on her neck frayed. Of course, that wouldn’t last. There was some trigger, some shift, and she was gone. The spring air became suffocating and suddenly she was there. She was on the scaffold, awaiting her death. The swordsman stood over her, awaiting the signal. Panic and pain overtook her as the blade came down. Everything went black. She stumbled in the dark and fumbled with her phone, pressing the first contact.

“Hello? Anne?” The voice was worried and familiar and Anne just broke.

“I’m…park… please help” She could barely get her words out around her sobs and quickening breath. The voice on the phone was soothing, repeating a mantra of comfort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If there was anyone Aragon did not expect a call from, it was Anne. The queens who had come home earlier had been extremely upset, Cathy explaining what had happened on the Ferris wheel. So, she was surprised when the caller id on her phone displayed the name Anne Boleyn.

“Hello?” There was no response, “Anne?”

“I’m… park… please help” The younger woman was sobbing, the harsh noise hurting Catherine’s ears through the phone. She didn’t know why Anne had called her of all people, but she wasn’t going to hesitate. The park Anne was talking about was familiar to her, and she figured that’s where she could be found.

“Alright, just keep calm, I’ll be there soon. You’re okay, it’ll be okay” She repeated that last part for a few minutes while she drove. By the time she got to the park, the words lost meaning to her, but Anne was still sobbing. She hung up with a final reassurance as Anne came into her line of vision. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she brought the younger woman into a hug, rocking her back and forth while she cried herself out. Anne’s arms wrapped around Catherine so tightly that she was worried about bruising, but still, she did not let go. Eventually, Anne’s tears stopped and she pulled herself off of Aragon, blushing seemingly out of embarrassment.

“Heh, sorry about that. Guess I kind of… lost my head” Anne let out a terse laugh at her own joke, but Aragon did not find any humor in the situation. With one look at her face, Anne’s smile crumbled again. “It hurts, the memories and my neck, and everything”

That admission sparked Aragon to pull Anne back into her. Sure, they didn’t necessarily get along, but they were both getting better at affection. They held each other close for a few minutes before Aragon brought them both up and into the car. Anne was leaning heavily on her, too tired to walk on her own. When they got home, Anne went straight to her bedroom and Aragon followed.

“You know, if I wanted people around me I wouldn’t have gone to my room,” Anne snarked at her. Aragon had known Anne too long to be bothered by a little sarcasm, though, and was not deterred. Sternly, but (she hoped) warmly, she tutted at the state of the woman’s bedroom. It was quite messy and she almost wanted to scold her for it, but this was not the time.

“And if I thought you would be okay alone, I wouldn’t be following you” Aragon retorted. She gently pushed Anne onto the bed, sitting down next to her. “Now, you can either tell me why you seem insistent on pushing us out, or you can take a nap. Either way, I’ll be right here”

Anne scoffed at her, “I’m not a child, you can’t send me to bed,”. But, when Aragon shot her a look she crumbled. With a sigh, Anne admitted, “I thought it would make it easier for everyone if I just dealt with my shit on my own time. No one else needs to be dragged into it”

It was a feeling Aragon was familiar with, not wanting to be a bother. She hadn’t expected that Anne, someone so insistent on speaking her mind, would be feeling similarly, Although, now that she thought about it, ut was rarely ever anything serious that Anne blurted out of her filterless mouth. She sighed, heavily, nervous about what she could say in response to that admission.

“We’re here for you Anne. When Kat comes to you for comfort, do you consider that a burden?”

“What? No, of course not, I love her”

“Right, and we love you too, so none of us consider it a burden when you need help”

Anne stilled seemed unsure. Her hand on her bare neck told Aragon another problem that she may be having. Anne was exposed, both literally and figuratively before her.

“Anne?”

“Yeah?”

“You know none of us are going to use anything you tell us against you, right?” Anne stared at Aragon like she had just seen a ghost. Ironic, she supposed, as they were all ghosts in a sense. The second queen curled in on her self, hair falling into her face and hiding her expression.

“How… how did you know I was afraid of that?” Aragon smiled sadly at the shaking question.

“Because I worry about the same thing. But we’re all trustworthy Anne, and if I have to I will prove that to you whenever you need me to. I won’t tell the other queens about any of this if you don’t want me to but talk to me at least. You know I’ll understand”

Anne’s eyes filled with tears and she threw herself onto Catherine, forcing them both to be laying down onto the bed.

“Thank you, Catie, I needed that” Aragon acted offended at the nickname, bringing a laugh out of Anne’s throat. A real laugh, such a nice sound.

“Anytime, love”


	4. Cleves

The sluggishness that hit the queen’s home in the summer of 2017 could at first be put down to the heatwave. That was until they peaked at the calendar and noted the big red x on the date July 16th. Anna, normally the most physically active of the queens, had been spending long hours napping or laying about. She had even had to ask other queens, mostly Kitty, to help her move around. They hadn’t really known from what she died back in her time, but now she knew it had been cancer. Everything felt weak and strained, so like her final days.

Learning from Anne’s mistake, she invited Bessie to stay over with her. It was almost odd that Bessie had come back for her when she had served for Aragon for longer. To be fair, Anna hadn’t been queen all that long and for most of that time, she couldn’t speak any English. Whatever the case, Bessie had come back connected to her.

She slept through her alarm, not opening her eyes until noon. Her body felt weighed down with lead, everything was so much effort. Anna was immediately grateful for Bessie having slept in the same bed as her the night previous. It took more energy than she wanted to admit to just turn over to the woman and tap her awake. Bessie’s eyes blinked open and immediately her face twisted into concern for Anna. It made her feel awful, to have someone worried for her. Anna prided herself on being the strong one and here she was unable to lift herself out of bed.

“Bess… I” She stopped to catch her breath. Lord, she was pathetic right now. “Can’t get up”

Bessie laid a hand on her arm and shot her a reassuring smile. “Do you think you can eat anything, love? It’s important to keep your strength up”

Anna shook her head. It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry or that she thought she would be sick. It just sounded like so much effort right now. She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep. Guilt filled her. It was the same guilt that she felt whenever Kitty or Cathy openly struggled with things Henry had done to them. This weakness, this is what stopped her from protecting the people she loved. What if she had been a faster learner? If she had known English? If she had been more beautiful? Would Henry have stayed with her? It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, she knew. He had been cheating on her with Katherine for months before he technically divorced her. It ended with Kitty getting killed and Anna getting land and riches. She was disgusted with herself.

The guilt was swiftly coupled with embarrassment. All of this thought of the past brought back the memory of whispers behind hands at court. She didn’t know why they tried to hide what they were saying, it’s not like she would have understood them anyway. When she started to comprehend English was when she learned what they had been saying. Calling her ugly and horselike, dull, weak and submissive, ignorant of the ways of the world. Well, it was true that she hadn’t really known what it meant to consummate a marriage. That had been mortifying at the time but was honestly hilarious in hindsight.

Bessie broke her out of her thoughts. “Hey, Anne, don’t fly away on me”

Anna blushed a bit, realizing that her train of thought had probably been visible on her face. A small smile crept onto her face,

“Don’t call me Anne” Bessie looked confused at that.

“That’s your name isn’t it?” Anna shook her head.

“That’s my English name” Again, she had to stop to catch her breath from even that much of a sentence. Her lungs just couldn’t get enough air. “I want to start over now. My name is Anna Von Kleves, “ A breath, “and that’s how it’s staying”

She hadn’t realized how passionate she was about that until she said it out loud. Being German was who she was and she wasn’t going to let some British motherfuckers take it from her. Bessie looked so proud of her. The woman had always been a source of guidance for her, more familiar with the ways of English court, she had guided Anna through those short months that she spent as queen.

“Okay, Lady Anna,” She stressed the word Anna in a fond tone, “is there anything you need me to do for you?” Anna thought a bit before answering.

“I don’t think I can get out of bed, but other than feeling pretty tired, I’m fine” Bessie gave her a skeptical look. “Really, I think I just want to hang out in bed all day”

Bessie seemed satisfied with that answer. It would have been very easy for her to tell if Anna was lying. The Ladies had come back with a heightened sense of their queen’s emotions and physical health. If Anna had been feeling worse than she said, Bessie would know.

“Well, have you seen Toy Story yet?”

Anna shook her head and Bessie grinned widely at her. They had been binge-watching culturally relevant movies, in between writing music and Bessie learning how to play bass guitar. Something was missing though.

“I think we should get the other queens in on this,” Anna suggested. Bessie wrapped an arm around her and helped her sit up.

“Are you okay for me to help you downstairs?”

“You may have to carry me” Anna was joking, but Bessie just shrugged and effortlessly slung her over her shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She let out a noise of disapproval, which just caused Bessie to laugh as she brought her downstairs. Anna found herself deposited on the couch. Bessie turned to the kitchen where several of the other queens were eating lunch and laughing at the sight of Anna being carried. (Parr and Kitty were upstairs, of course, they would probably have to drag them away from the keyboard where they had spent the past weeks finishing up the music for the show so they could get into rehearsals as soon as possible).

“All right, we’re pulling up a movie on Amazon Prime, who’s watching?” The three queens voiced their approval and made their way over to the couch. Bessie helped Anna into a sitting position and let the woman slump against her before pulling up the movie on their TV.

Jane moved to wrap her arms around Anna, but seemed to think better of it when she remembered how hot it was.

The movie was sweet and she enjoyed the distraction from the dull tired ache in her bones. She was half ready to take a nap before excited shouts came from upstairs. They had been hearing faint music throughout the movie, but Kitty and Parr knew to keep their volume low when practicing as the songs could get pretty loud. Whatever they had just done was apparently worth the noise.

“ANNA HOLY SHIT WE HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU!” Parr’s voice rang out. It startled them, Parr never cursed.

Bessie called up, “You’ve got to come down loves!”

Rapid footsteps banged through the home in their direction. Anne had a shine in her eye that told Anna she might know what this was about, but when she looked at her questioningly the second queen only shrugged, holding back laughter.

Parr and Kitty rushed, Parr holding her notebook and Kat struggling with her keyboard. Before anyone could say anything the instrument was plugged in. Both were out of breath from running and had to take a second to speak.

“Okay so… first things first, Anna, how are you?” Kitty’s question came out half panted. She looked incredibly happy, so Anna was reassured. Kitty, as bright and excitable as she was, wouldn’t pull any kind of cruel trick on her today of all days.

“A bit tired and very confused Kit” Anna’s face scrunched up as Parr pulled chairs in from the kitchen so Kitty could sit at her keyboard.

“Yes, well, oh I think Cathy would be better at explaining this than me” At this point Anne was barely containing her laughter, which only creates more confusion for Anna.

“So we wanted to have a sort of comic relief song after Jane to, you know, break the tension a bit and introduce the latter half of us” Anna nodded, following thus far. “And we’ve written the perfect thing. It’ll sound a bit off with just the two of us but I promise when all of us learn it and we get the other instruments in it will be great. Ready, Kitty?”

Kat didn’t respond in words, just began counting down on her fingers. Three, two, one. A jaunty tune blasted from the keyboard.

“HANS HOLBEIN GOES AVROUND ZE VROLD” The horrible German accent immediately sent Anna into a fit of laughter that continued the entire song. It increased when Kitty broke out into a voice that Anna had never heard her use before, the fake accent so thick as to make her voice unrecognizable. By the end she had completely forgotten her fatigue in the utter madness that Kitty and Parr had managed to create. She applauded wildly with Anne and Bessie while Jane and Aragon looked slightly concerned and very confused.

“Oh that’s gonna be fun to learn” Bessie said through laughter. Anne was bent over double, crying and nearly on the floor from laughter. Anna took in Parr and Kitty’s proud faces and noted the bags under their eyes.

“When was the last time you two slept?” Parr looked at her a bit sheepishly.

“About three days I think” She shrugged

“Sleep deprivation is a hell of a drug” Kat added on. Anna just shook her head, too tired to deal with this right now. She did feel thoroughly cheered up though. Her family was crazy, but she loved them.


	5. Parr

While the leaves outside turned a murky brown and began to fall, an odd feeling ran through the home of the six wives of Henry VIII. Catherine Parr had been feeling pangs of pain in her lower abdomen, cramping reminiscent of phantom labor pains. She had felt nauseated and unsettled all week. When August 30th came, she had spent all day curled up in bed, the phantom pains having gotten much stronger. The next five days were lost in increasing nausea and deliriousness, though with the dread of death her urge to write became much stronger. 18 months. That’s how long the ‘survivor’ had survived after Henry had died. That’s how long she had been able to be with Thomas. 

The night before her death day, she was determined to stay up all night writing. Maybe, she thought, if she tired herself out she would be able to sleep through the day. The idea didn’t really make sense, Cathy had spent many days running on no sleep. 

She did not make her plans known to her fellow queens, but they seemed to know anyways. Once she settled down to write, Aragon and Anne both entered her room. Internally, Cathy prepped herself for the battle she was sure would come. It wouldn’t be the first time she was confronted about her writing habits, though the others had mostly given up on trying to contain her. 

Shockingly, neither Aragon or Anne moved to stop her. Instead, they both settled on the bed and began going about their night time cooldown rituals. Cathy figured that they were just sleeping in her room to make sure that she was okay. Aragon didn’t even try to stop her as she pulled out her laptop to write. If she was going to be staying up all night anyway, there would be no point in inconveniencing herself with trying to keep up her paper supply with the speed of her hands. On the bed behind her, she began to hear Anne’s sketching, something she found quite soothing in its repetitive strokes. Cathy felt her eyes begin to droop slightly, the fatigue only increasing when Aragon began her evening prayers. For once, the woman said them out loud, kneeling beside the bed. Aragon’s voice was soft and she spoke in a rhythm that seemed familiar to her as Aragon rocked back and forth on her knees a little. 

Slowly, but surely, the combination of pencil scratching and mumbled prayers caused Cathy to drift into sleep.

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Aragon breathed a short sigh of relief when she saw Cathy slump at her desk. She rose from her knees and shifted onto the bed, tapping Anne’s shoulder to get her attention. Anne moved from her drawing and Aragon caught a glance at the sketchbook, something Anne never showed any of the queens, even as Anne quickly tried to hide it. In dark and firm pencil Anne had drawn a shadowed figure swinging down a sword upon the dark outline of a woman. 

Before Aragon could comment, Anne had moved over to the desk and lifted Cathy’s body in a bridal carry. Uncharacteristically, Anne was silent as she laid Cathy onto the bed and curled around her. Aragon resigned herself to not saying anything. If Anne had wanted her to see she would have show her. Instead, she placed herself next to the other two queens and let herself slip into unconsiousness. 

—————————————————————————————————————————-

Cathy was awoken only a couple of hours later with a wave of horrible nausea. She tried to move away from the bed and only succeeded in falling on the ground, managing to pull a wastebasket next to her before she was violently sick. A quick glance found that not all of the sick had made it in and Cathy groaned at the idea of having to clean up later. A fog stuffed her skull with cotton wool. Someone moved to lift her up, though she couldn’t recognize them in her hazy state. She found herself being guided to the bathroom, where she kneeled in front of the toilet. Her hair was pulled away from her face as she was sick again. 

Cathy leaned her overheated forehead against the cool porcelain and closed her eyes in the slight relief that it brought. A hand began rubbing her back, comforting and steadying. She whimpered, feeling pathetic as she did so. Wait. What was happening? Who was behind her? 

“Where am I?”, she mumbled out. The person, no, the woman behind her squeezed Cathy’s shoulder. 

“You’re in our house, it’s 2017, you’ll be okay”, the woman reassured. Cathy was confused for a second, the disorientation leading her to once again stick her head in the bowl. Once she was done, her head cleared a little bit. It became clear that the woman behind her was Aragon. She allowed herself to slump into her godmother, too weak to keep holding herself up. A kiss was pressed into her sweat-soaked hairline. 

“I don’t feel good, Ari” She mumbled out. Her mouth tasted disgusting, her head was pounding, and she was pretty sure she had a fever. The woman above her tutted and starting wiping around her mouth with a towel. 

“Oh, pobrecita, I know. I’m going to try and get you back to bed now, okay?” Aragon said, lovingly. Cathy was going to nod, but then she was brought back in front of the toilet as she was sick again. “Okay, let’s stay here a bit” 

Cathy let out a weak groan. All of this was so reminiscent of her final days. She had gotten sick very quickly, it only took five days of burning fever and raging sickness until she passed. Something came to her then.

“Ari, I got sick on the floor in my room, I have to clean it up” Her words were barely audible as she whimpered them out. Aragon pulled her back in, making soft a placating noises. 

“Annie’s handling that, don’t you worry your big brain about it”.

Cathy let out a short laugh, a weak smile spreading across her face. She snuggled up into her godmother’s chest, not caring how childish she felt. “I’m telling her that you called her Annie,”

“I will leave you on this floor”

“No, you won’t,”

“No, I won’t,” Both women laughed.

The bathroom door creaked open, revealing Anne with a glass of water and a cold compress. Cathy was immensely grateful for the water as she swished it around and spit to get the awful taste out of her mouth and chugged the rest in an effort to quell the throbbing in her head that was at least partially due to dehydration from vomiting. Anne joined them on the floor and placed the cold compress on her forehead. Cathy immediately felt relief. 

“Anna’s grabbing paracetamol downstairs and Kitty is physically restraining Jane from barging in here. I don’t know how long that’s gonna hold I’ll be honest” Anne spoke as though Jane was a terrifying force. The mental image of Kitty trying to stop a raging Jane was hilarious. Come to think of it, she could be pretty intimidating when she wanted to be. Cathy knew what the point in restraining her was. Jane would definitely try to help, but being around sickness was horrible for her. It was best to keep her away, lest the queens have to deal with two incapacitated people.

Anna entered soon enough, fever meds in hand. Unlike Anne, she didn’t join them.

“Can’t stay long love, I’m joining the fray in holding back the mighty Seymour” Her smooth joking raised Cathy’s spirits, as did the medicine as her fever slowly went down and the sledgehammer against her skull became more on an incessant tapping. She was sick a few more times before giving in and deciding it was more worth it to get comfortable in her own bed than to not be an inconvenience when it came to cleaning. 

Before she could stand up, Anne held out a hand to stop her. Without asking, Anne lifted her into a bridal carry and was bringing her down the hallway. Cathy let out a loud shrieking laugh at the unexpected movement, even as it further unsettled her stomach. Aragon yelled after them,

“Don’t make her sick!” Anne slowed down at that, seemingly having not considered that maybe running around with someone who had spent the last hour being ill was not the best idea. 

“Have I made you worse?” Cathy snuggled into Anne’s arms and shook her head. Anne laughed and took off again, a bit slower this time. When she was laid out on her bed, Cathy immediately curled up into a ball. It was her preferred ‘comfort’ position. Anne joined her on the bed with Aragon soon following. 

Cathy reached for her notebook, feeling the need to continue her writing. She knew she probably wasn’t going to die, but even the tiniest chance was enough to drive her. Her hand moved, mainly without thinking, as she continued the story she was writing, one about a woman growing up in Tudor times. She hoped to accurately portray what the experience was like in a way that even the most dedicated historical fiction writers could not, through a combination of her own memories and those of the other queens. No one else would ever have the knowledge they had, if they were gone and never wrote it down then it would be lost forever. Cathy was adamant that that could never happen. 

Aragon didn’t try to stop her, just pulled her close, looking at the paper as she wrote. Normally, Cathy found it extremely irritating when one of the queens stared over her shoulder, but she couldn’t bring herself to be mad at her godmother. Anne had picked up her sketchbook from where she had thrown in the night before and Cathy was soothed by the pencil scratching sound even as she was completely engrossed in her work. She knew Anne was probably similarly focused, drawing was the only thing that could keep the chaotic queen still for extended periods of time. 

The three sat and worked in silence for nearly an hour before they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Kitty creaked the door open, a look of gentle concern on her face. 

“Hey, it’s 8 o’clock, I made breakfast if any of you want?” Cathy felt a bit sick at the idea of idea anything, so she shook her head, but Aragon and Anne were evidently both hungry. 

“Are you okay if we leave you only for a bit?”, Aragon asked.

“Yeah, I’ll keep busy, don’t worry” 

It felt like no time passed as Cathy nearly fell into a trance as she wrote, wondering if this is what her daughter had experienced as well. She wondered if Mary had been educated, or if she had been happy, what stories were her favorite and who had told them to her, what her first words were. There was virtually nothing that Cathy knew about the girl she had died bringing into the world. Some small, bitter part of her wondered if it had even been worth it. Clearly, there was no significant mark left by Mary Seymour if nothing about her was ever recorded. To be useful in all I do, that had been her motto. What if her final act, her death, hadn’t been useful?

She immediately chastised herself for the thought. She must be horrible, Cathy thought, to be valuing her own life so far above her daughter’s. Cathy had always privately considered her writings her children, but it was sickening to her that she could love them more than her actual child. 

The conflicting thoughts brought her headache back and turned her stomach. Her notebook was thrown across the room, she couldn’t stand to look at it anymore. The effort of tossing it brought her to the floor and she hauled herself up to rush to the bathroom before she was sick again. She had thought writing would be a good distraction, but it had hurt her more than anything.

Evidently, the queens had heard her tumble from downstairs and, for what felt like the millionth time today, Aragon rushed in to hold her hair back. The first queen tutted a bit at the state of her. No more came after she finished so she let herself be guided back to her room. Anne was waiting there, once again engrossed in her sketching. Aragon went to pick up the notebook but Cathy couldn’t stand the thought of writing any more right now. It was the first time since she came back that she genuinely hated the idea of putting pen to paper. Aragon shot her a confused look, but Cathy just shook her head, not able to verbalize what she was feeling. 

“Cathy, are you okay?”, Aragon asked. This got Anne’s attention who finally lifted her head from what she was drawing. Cathy felt tears begin to run down her face.

“Sometimes, I wonder if it was worth it. I died giving birth to a child I barely even wanted and then she didn’t even make an impact! And then,” she was interrupted by a sob, “then I think that I must be the worst person in the world to be having that sort of thought”

She expected many things on the faces of Anne and Aragon. Disgust, anger, pity. What she didn’t expect was deep understanding. Aragon guided her down onto the bed. 

“I wonder the exact same thing sometimes. If all of the years I spent going through miscarriages and stillborns and pain was even worth it when Mary was who I created,” Aragon’s tone was bitter and sad. Anne chimed in, flipping through her sketchbook until she found a page near the beginning.

“Cathy, what does this look like?”, She asked. Cathy squinted at the picture, it was an image of a girl, but it was scribbled out quite violently. 

“I have no idea”. Anne smiled sadly at her.

“It was going to be Elizabeth, but when I tried to draw her all I could think about how despite how much I loved her and how wonderful she was, the fact that I had her instead of a son is the reason I was killed and the reason I spent the last years of my life being forced to get pregnant over and over until it became clear that I couldn’t have any more children and then I was thrown out like I was nothing. It’s not horrible to think about yourself first Cathy. It’s human,” 

Cathy gripped onto the two women, allowing herself to be held. She didn’t leave her room for the rest of the day, but she also didn’t pick up her notebook again.


	6. Seymour

The pain on October 11 had been all-encompassing, had left her down for the count and sobbing from the ripping feeling in her womb. Over the next 13 days, Jane could not leave her bed. Everything was achy and hot and sweat-slicked. While the other had all had mild symptoms leading up to their own death anniversaries where the memories would peak, Jane’s seemed to drag on. Just like her death, it was drawn out to the point where she wondered if it would not be kinder to simply let her close her eyes and not ever open them again. The worst part? She wasn’t actually sick. She felt the fever without having one, she felt the illness take over her body in phantom waves, caused not by bacteria but by memories of it. 

Jane tried to push through it at first, the first two days after birth hadn’t actually been that bad. She kept doing her household chores, kept doing her share even as the other queens told her it was okay to sit it out. But just as it had happened in life, the sickness took her quickly and stayed long past its welcome. Jane barely knew where she was at some points. Joan had come over to stay, but Jane could tell that she also wasn’t feeling her best, her lady was experiencing a very toned-down version of Jane’s own hurt. It made her heart ache to know that someone else was suffering because of her. She tried to convince Joan to go home, to let herself be taken care of, but Joan had insisted in a way that made Jane feel guiltier.

To say that Jane woke up on the morning of her death day would probably be an overstatement of her consciousness. She didn’t know where she was. Wherever it was was feverish and sticky and slick. It reminded her almost of her birthing bed, soaked with her own blood and sweat. There were faint flashes that made it through the utter buzz and fog of it all. Flashes of an infant with sandy hair intercut with a bedroom she could only just recognize. Cries that blended into the noise of cars passing outside. Pain that stayed through everything. Vaguely, she recognized that someone was with her and sometimes she could see them, but mostly she sunk into the hazy blackness and let the waves crash over her.

In the blackness, there was only a thick layer of rich sickness. She trudged through it as it pooled in her eyes and chest. Her breathing was labored and raspy, lungs shaking from the effort of taking in the air past the congestion built up in her throat. Jane coughed around it, spitting up a bit of mucus. She whimpered a bit, feeling the woman, she thought it was a woman at least, next to her rubbing her back.

—————————————————————————————————————————

To watch the normally strong Jane suffer so badly was absolutely horrid for Anne. She spent so long resenting the woman, so long hating her even. Now, in this new life, Jane was one of her biggest support systems. It was like watching a parent cry, someone who she thought was so infallible falling so badly. She sat down at the edge of her bed, trying desperately to quell her own fidgeting in order to not unsettle the women. It was pretty pointless though, Jane was already as unsettled as someone could get. Still, Anne moved with a gentleness that she didn’t know she had as she wiped the hair from the woman’s forehead. Jane was trembling so badly that Anne had to hold her down a bit to get anything done. She had tried to give her some medication, but it had come right back up. The other had gone off to the show, they only had so many alternates. That left Anne at home, fumbling in her efforts to care for the woman. 

She had absolutely no idea what she was doing. This was never something that Anne had ever had to do before. Why had they left her at home? Why not Aragon or Kitty or even Anna, all of whom would have been so much more qualified to take care of Jane than she was? It made her feel utterly worthless to not be able to do anything for the pain Jane was feeling. That was a familiar feeling at least, helplessness. Anne spent so much time bending and breaking to circumstance. 

Jane gave a horrible shudder and Anne rushed to grab the wastebasket in case the woman was sick. She wasn’t though, just shaking from the fever. Jane’s eyes opened and stared blankly at Anne, hazed and delirious. Anne knew that Jane didn’t recognize her, but she still flinched from the gaze. Shit, she needed to get a hold of herself. Jane was depending on her right now.

Anne heard Jane’s breathing pick up. Shit, shit, shit. What was she meant to do in this situation? Jane had never gone to her for help, hell Jane rarely went to anyone for help. She had no idea what would be comforting for the woman. The only thing she could do was work on her instincts. Anne shifted Jane in the bed, hoping that if she was sitting up it might clear her out a bit. Jane’s eyes never left her, she looked like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

“Anne Boleyn?” The woman rasped out. Anne placed a hand on the woman’s back and made comforting motions. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” she answered. Jane went pale, eyes fixed on the scar on Anne’s neck, uncovered. She moved to touch it and, for once, Anne let her, struggling not to run away at the feeling of Jane’s hands on the sensitive mark.

“You died, I saw it,“ Jane said with wide eyes. Anne curled in a bit automatically before straightening up with her patented mischievous smirk falsely plastered on her face.

“So did you, dear. It didn’t really stick,” Jane looked horrified and confused by her words. Anne supposed she would, she wasn’t really present right now.

“I… I died?” she asked, sounding incredibly small. Anne let out a noise of affirmation. “Am I going to die again?”

“No! No, not if I can help it. And I can,” Anne stumbled over her reassurances. Jane looked at her like she had seen a ghost.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would kill you, Anne. I’m so sorry,” Jane frantically apologized. Anne gripped the woman’s hand tightly.

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” she softly insisted. Anne didn’t really think that Jane needed to be forgiven, it wasn’t her fault after all that Henry had thought that the best way to get rid of Anne would be to chop her head off. But, Jane had always been stubborn and argumentative and if Anne tried to push on her point then there was no way Jane would let it lie. They needed to have a conversation about this later, though. Jane seemed satisfied with her answer, relaxing down into the bed and back into sleep. Anne breathed a sigh of relief, she was not good at this comforting thing. She laid back in the beanbag that she had dragged from her room to be by Jane’s bed and pulled out her sketchbook, ready to wait out the time before the others would get home. 

By the time she heard the door open several hours later, she had a fairly good sketch of the woman before her, splayed out in sickness with hair plastered to her face, eyes closed tightly against pain and discomfort. She hadn’t even realized the others were home, lost as she was in the visage. 

Anne started a bit as the door creaked behind her. Kitty came in and flicked her in the back of the ear. 

“Hey! What the hell!”, she scream whispered. Kitty stuck her tongue out and Anne flipped her off back. “Really mature Kit-Kat, any reason you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?” 

Kitty dropped a bag of fast food in Anne’s lap and shoved her way onto the bean bag.

“I’m taking over your shift, go relax,” she joked in a tone that definitely reminded Anne that Kitty was only 18. She ruffled her cousin’s hair and got up, throwing a chip at her for good measure. That earned her a solid, “Bitch!”

—————————————————————————————————————————

Kitty slumped into the beanbag, rolling out her shoulders. She was a bit sore from the show and utterly exhausted. She really needed to talk to Jane about getting her one of these chairs. It was comfy as heck. Speaking of Jane, she shifted to look at the woman lying on the bed. Kitty took Jane’s hand from where it was dangling on the edge of the bed and winced a bit at how clammy it was. Her heart sank into her stomach. She leaned forward, illogically hoping that Jane could feel some comfort in her closeness like she had in previous times of discomfort. It was eleven o’clock, there wasn’t much longer before this day would be over and they could all relax for a bit. 

Jane whimpered next to her and her scrunched up face and panting breaths made it clear that the woman was in the throes of a nightmare. Kitty knew it would be a bad idea to try and shake her awake, so instead, she lightly called,

“Jane? Jane, it’s okay! Jane!” 

The woman only whimpered in response, though her eyes slowly opened. Jane, seemingly without thinking, pulled Kitty into her. Kitty didn’t try to fight it, though she really didn’t enjoy the unexpected contact. It was clear that Jane needed comfort more than Kitty needed her personal space right now. Jane held on to her tightly, pulling Kitty on to the bed with her. It took a moment before Kitty was able to relax enough to reciprocate the hold but eventually she managed to wrap her arms around Jane and shift the woman so that Jane’s head was under her chin. They stayed like that until Jane’s breathing evened out. The clocked ticked by and hit midnight, at which point the haze faded from Jane’s eyes.

—————————————————————————————————————————

The storm in Jane’s mind broke, clouds clearing away to reveal the bright light of clarity. The feeling of sickness was gone and with it the heavy weight of the past that had held her down in bed all day. She was holding Kitty, she realized. She hadn’t known who she was holding before.

It felt unreal, after so long of going in and out of the present. She pressed her head into Kitty’s collar, taking a second to listen to the girl’s breathing and heartbeat, to make sure this was actually real and happening. Her nightmare had been horrible. There was so much blood, so much pain, and her son who she only got to hold for brief intervals before her life was cut short. He would never get a second chance, he barely even got a first chance. That hurt worse than anything, her boy had died as little more than a child. There was something Jane wished she didn’t know and occasionally that was one of them. 

Well, Edward may never get a second chance, but she did. And, looking up at the now slumbering Kitty who she had gotten to see come out of her shell in the past few months, she couldn’t bring herself to resent that fact.

**Author's Note:**

> See More of my fics on tumblr: @woulddieforkhoward


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